The apple doesn't fall far from the snark

Lottie has really been testing my mettle lately.  Anytime I tell her something, she always answers, "I know" with exaggerated patience.  As a matter of fact, she always has to answer everything.

Me: "Lottie, get your socks."
Lottie: "I AM, Mom."

Me: "Lottie, don't scream in the car.  It's very distracting."
Lottie: (Incoherent mumbling in the back seat.)
Me: "What did you say?"
Lottie: "Nooooothing."


Me: "Lottie, let's put some sunscreen on before we go outside."
Lottie: "I know that, Mommy.  Remind Dallas; don't remind me."

See what I'm saying?  Ms. Smarty Pants is already acting like a teenager.  A know-it-all teenager.  This morning on the way to Monkey Joe's, she made a comment about my driving.  She claimed I wasn't planning to stop for a stop sign when I was obviously slowing down.  I reminded her that I had been driving for 22 years, and I was a pretty good driver at that.  She muttered something under her breath, and I instantly had the desire to make a snappy comment back to her.  That's when it hit me.  With dawning horror, I realized something: Lottie. is. exactly. like. me.

She always wants to have the last word, she doesn't like being told what to do, she's very sensitive and emotional, she's insanely verbal, she's wily, and she's usually considering someone else's feelings before her own.  She often flies off the handle for no apparent reason and then immediately feels bad about it.  She takes care of Dallas like it has been her job since she was born.  She sort of swishes the water around in her mouth when she takes a drink before she swallows it.  She can be quite snarky if she's in a mood.  She loves books and movies, especially ones with happy endings.  When Lottie is embarrassed, she likes to be left alone for a few minutes to collect herself, and she often returns smiling, like nothing ever happened.  She plays with different kids at the park all the time, and all of them instantly become her new best friends.  She loves to lie in my bed in the morning and have a "snuggle party" before breakfast.  She gets a little nuts when she's tired and has a really hard time winding down.  She tends to waste energy worrying about things that will never come to pass.  When Dallas cries, she cries.  Her heart is truly full of love.

It's humbling and weird to see oneself reflected so wholly in another person.  I get to see my best and my worst qualities played out in my daughter.  I find that the times I am most frustrated by her are the times she is basically mimicking what she has seen me do, and sometimes that's a bit of a smack in the face.  (Figuratively, of course.  No children chez Wells are smacked.)  I'm sure this isn't a new revelation and that all parents go through this, but it's new to me.  It's funny to have a Mini-Me, and it's also breathtakingly scary.   She's watching and listening more closely than I ever imagined, so I need to essentially be the woman I want her to be someday.  No pressure there.